State of Grace Page 4

  Grace as a mischievous child, as a sullen teenager, as a voluptuous young woman uncomfortable in her own skin …

  As his feisty nemesis who always gave him as good as she got.

  Everything seemed to rush together at once, and for the first time, he finally admitted to himself that he’d always been drawn to her. His hand remained still as his eyes hungrily drank in her every feature.

  Hazy eyes finally focused on him before he forced himself out of his daze. “This is how it’s going to go baby. I’m gonna make you come first. First time’s for you. Then I’m gonna fuck you.”

  She didn’t know how, but suddenly her panties were gone, and she was flat on her back. Sean shrugged out of his shirt and pants, his big hard body covering hers. The kiss he gave her was quick, urgent, before he moved down her body to settle between her legs.

  He sat back on his heels from between her thighs. Her nipples were a deep, rosy pink from all the sucking he’d done earlier. Her stomach moved in rhythm with her shallow breaths. She moved listlessly, trying to reach for him, trying to pull him to her.

  “Uh-uh. You don’t touch me until I tell you to, okay? This one’s for you baby. Stay there.”

  He used his middle finger and thumb to part her glistening folds. “You have such a pretty pussy. It’s perfect. All pink and wet.”

  She cried out when he touched the tip of his tongue to her clitoris, leisurely lapping at it. He let out a husky laugh when she tried to arch her hips.

  “Patience,” he growled.

  He kept the lips of her pussy open with his hand. Using his other hand, he inserted first one finger, then two into her tight wetness. She groaned softly as he dipped his head to suck at the bundle of nerves tightly wound in the center. She bit down hard on her lower lip and clutched at the sheets beneath her as he relentlessly kept on.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod, please stop, I can’t take it. Please Sean,” she begged. He paused his ministrations for a moment. “You’ll have to take it, baby. You’ll have to take everything I give you. You’re gonna come so hard,” he murmured against her flesh, before suctioning her clit back into his mouth.

  She twisted her hips in an effort to escape. She couldn’t handle it, it was too much. It burned, oh, she burned so bad. Words, cries, hoarse shouts escaped her mouth, and she was clueless as to what she was saying to him as he held her down and feasted. His fingers continued to fire like a piston in and out of her sheath.

  Sean couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted so sweet, and he was unbearably hard, but he swelled further as she cried out incoherently. She’d drenched his hands already, and he needed inside badly. He raised his head from her center, using the time to curve his fingers against her, applying sharp pressure to her inner walls as he clamped his mouth, sucking hard at her clit.

  She unraveled.

  All at once, the pressure inside her released into every nerve of her being. She tried to buck him off, but he’d pinned her thighs to the bed with his forearms as he nursed her through her climax. Shards of pleasure coursed through her body, and through the fog, she dimly heard the sounds of him lapping up her juices. Breathless cries pierced the air, and she realized it was her.

  She came long and hard, and her body shuddered as she climbed down from where he’d taken her. He slowly came back into focus, hard planes of his face clenching as he wrapped himself in a condom. He kissed her hard, and she could taste herself on his lips. “My turn,” he grit out, rearing into her.

  Grace hadn’t thought it was possible for her to feel anything or do anything but lay there limply while he finished. As he insistently pushed his hot, hard length into her, she cried out at the sharp lance of his invasion, gasping for air.

  He stilled. “You okay sweetheart?”

  “Keep going,” she panted. “Please don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she panted.

  He cupped her bottom, angling her so she was fully open to him. “You’re so fucking tight, Grace. So fucking tight. This pussy is heaven,” he ground out, eyes blazing in hers.

  It had been years since she’d been with anyone, and despite the discomfort from his initial invasion, and the fact that she’d already had an orgasm, she felt herself grow impossibly wet as he talked dirty to her. He teased her with shallow thrusts, raising her up again and again as she mindlessly begged for more.

  “Do you like it when I fuck you Grace?” He looked at her intently, circling his hips and grinding against her clit.

  She groaned softly, and her head fell back against the pillow, baring the soft skin of her neck. He leaned forward to suck a delicate, exposed patch of her throat before gently tugging her earlobe between his teeth. “You didn’t answer,” he chastised softly. “Tell me if you like it when I fuck you.”

  Desperately, she arched her hips to bring him back fully inside her, but he evaded her. “Yes,” she moaned.

  “Good girl.” The harsh praise fell from his lips as he gripped her ass tightly and slammed forward until he was seated to the hilt. “Oh fuck. You’re so good.” He groaned as he felt her tight muscles squeeze around his cock in response.

  Her head moved from side to side on the pillow as she thrust her hips forward to meet his deep plunges. Her lipstick had faded, but her pretty, plump lips were flushed with blood, and he could feel her nails scrape against his back. He wanted to last, but as he thrust faster and harder, he knew it was impossible. He gripped her flesh behind her knee, raising her leg higher so he could get closer.

  Somewhere in her mind, Grace knew that this was for him. He’d promised her an orgasm before they had sex, and he’d delivered, but she could feel herself climbing the peak again. He slammed into her, and she felt a sharp twist of something between pleasure and pain as the thick crown of his cock bumped up against her cervix.

  She shrieked, the sound desperate and foreign.

  Sweat dripped from his brow, and his mouth crashed down on her as he took no mercy, pounding into her ceaselessly. “I could fuck you forever,” he muttered against her lips, before she erupted once again.

  Like the last time, he drove her higher and higher, except this time it was his dick that rhythmically slid in and out of her instead of his hand. She’d already come once, but as she climaxed beneath him, squeezing his cock with that perfect pussy, he felt a savage pleasure. As soon as he felt his release about to start, his balls tightened and he slammed forward, roaring as he ground his hips against hers.

  He rested his forehead against hers as he emptied himself into her, trying to catch his breath. After he’d finished, he’d wrapped his arms around her and rolled over to his side.

  She wasn’t in any better shape. Her heart still felt like it was about to burst out of her chest, and she drew in a shuddering breath in an attempt to regain her scattered wits.

  He was still inside her. A cool breeze from the open window whispered over her sweat dampened skin, and the sensation brought reality crashing back. She was in bed, with Sean, with Sean inside her, and her brother was going to kill her, and Sean’s body was wrapped around her, and holy hell, he was still so deep, and …

  Were they cuddling?

  He tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head so that she faced him. Schooling her features into nonchalance, she hoped her expression wasn’t as stunned as she felt.

  Her mind flashed back to the last hour. All of the wicked, dirty things he’d said and done to her. She flushed as she recalled holding out her breast for him to suck on, like she was some virgin sacrifice at an altar.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by his low, satisfied voice. “Looks like you’re thinking hard, babe. I’d kill to know what’s running through that demented, beautiful, little head right now.”

  Stormy gray eyes flashed at him, and he bit back a grin. “Nothing,” she grit out tightly, wishing she could crawl into a black hole, all the while mentally chastising herself for sleeping with the enemy.

  “Nothing is going through your beautiful head? Never pegged you for the pretty, dumb type Gra
cie,” he teased.

  “You know exactly what I mean!” she snapped, knowing she should have ended their conversation and escaped his embrace, but she couldn’t help rambling on. “And stop calling me ‘pretty’ and ‘Gracie.’”

  “So ... not pretty, but it appears I can call you dumb.” Amused blue eyes gazed at her as he laughed.

  Her mouth screwed up in a scowl, but she quickly forgot her annoyance when he bent his head, brushing his firm lips softly over hers. “You also didn’t mind when I called you Gracie while we had sex,” he whispered hotly.

  She gasped as she felt him expand inside her and pushed against his chest. “Put it away, Sean!”

  How on earth was it possible for him to get erect again with no recovery time?

  “That’s not what you were saying thirty minutes ago, sweetheart,” he leered at her. “Besides, the ‘Seanator’ seems to be the only way I can get you to be nice to me.”

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘“Seanator’? You named your penis ‘Seanator’? Like ‘senator’?”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “I wasn’t the one to name him. Remember when I ran for senior class president in high school? Well, some of the girls decided it was fitting.”

  “Uh huh,” she responded, trying to decide between laughter and disgust. She failed miserably and exploded in hysterics until tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. He grabbed at her playfully rolling her over until she was on her back again, and he was on top of her.

  “Little tease,” he murmured, circling his hips gently against her.

  In an instant, her humor was forgotten and she closed her eyes and sighed, her muscles instinctively clenching around him.

  “We need a new condom before we can do that again, baby,” he sighed regretfully. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Her face flamed at how shameless and wanton she was, but she pointed at the far corner of the room.

  He kissed her sweetly, either not noticing her embarrassment or choosing to ignore it. “Be right back,” he muttered, before swiftly rolling off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

  His momentary absence gave her overly analytical mind the space to finally process her thoughts.

  The man was so irritating … but appealing.

  The one thing Grace was sure of was that she didn’t know if she was coming or going. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she’d be laying here with Sean … or that he’d be as drawn to her as she had always been to him.

  Already he’d given her two mind-blowing orgasms. At least she hoped they were mind-blowing, considering she didn’t really have a great frame of reference given her previously disappointing forays into sex. Even with her limited experience, she knew he’d been incredibly demanding of her in bed. She hadn’t expected that, but even more unexpected was how much she’d loved it. Sex certainly had never felt like that before, and to be honest, somewhere deep inside, she was not surprised sex with him was so incredible. Over the years, she’d turned her nose up at the pathetic parade of women who kept coming back to him for more, but even then she’d known there was something magnetic about him.

  Almost every one of her female friends, and even some of her gay male ones, too, had been taken in by his playful, charming demeanor and easy smile. When no one else was looking, and she cared to be honest with herself, she could cop to the magnetic pull his presence had on both her heart and hormones, but his devil-may-care attitude was in complete contrast to the Sean he’d been in bed. Gone was the charm and play, and in place was intense, rough, gritty need.

  As much as she hated to admit it … she’d been incinerated.

  She sighed and stretched lazily, wondering if she’d be able to walk the next day. The second that thought crossed her mind, the door in the corner of the room opened, sinewy shadows highlighted by the light from the bathroom.

  His eyes lit on her form in the bed, and even though she knew he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness, she looked down.

  “Ready for round two, baby?”

  Chapter Three

  Six months later…

  She frowned at the sandwich cart. Slightly dark, hardened edges framed the turkey sitting between what she guessed was stale wheat. The sloppy-joes didn’t look much better. The sauce looked like it had been congealing for the past few hours.

  Revolted, her stomach lurched in protest. Salad it was. She sighed and headed towards a different line. One would think the food served in a hospital would be healthy and fresh, but every time Grace stepped into the cafeteria, the hypochondriac in her imagined all sorts of nasty stomach bugs and food poisoning. Exasperated, for what felt like the umpteenth time, she filled a container with leafy greens and vegetables. She’d lost ten pounds since she’d started her new gig. Out of all the diets she’d tried, who knew the secret to success would be food that wouldn’t even be served in a torture chamber?

  “Grace, we on for Friday night?” She looked up at the voice that came from the other side of the salad bar and suppressed a groan.

  “Hi Nolan,” she greeted flatly. “And no we are not on for Friday night. I told you that on Monday.”

  She grimaced as she heard snickering behind her. Turning around, she saw some of the other nurses. She looked back at a red-faced Nolan.

  She wanted to apologize, but really, it was his fault for pestering her, especially out in the open where anyone could hear them. She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to the punch.

  “No worries, Grace. Noticed you eating salads every day for lunch and dinner and that you lost a couple of pounds. Figured maybe once you got laid, you’d lose the stick up your ass,” he said snidely.

  She clenched her teeth as she felt her face flame, and it only got worse when she heard the snickers resume from their audience.

  For some reason unbeknownst to her, Nolan Bridges had been in hot pursuit of her ever since she began working at Beth Israel Hospital. For the life of her, she didn’t know why, nor did she care.

  It wasn’t like she flirted with him. She didn’t flirt with anyone and even if she had found him attractive, Nolan was particularly un-likeable. He reminded her of the jerks who’d ask a girl out because they thought she was desperate and would do anything, then got angry when they were turned down.

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Oh you’ve got it all wrong honey. Definitely not looking to get laid by you. As a matter of fact, salad is all I can eat after having to put up with you all day. Maybe if you leave me alone, I can get back some of my junk in the trunk.” With that, she lightly patted her rear and stalked off, not wanting to see his reaction or continue the conversation.

  Quickly, she moved to the cashier, and as the cafeteria worker greeted her with a genuine smile and told her to have a nice day, her anger began to subside.

  She headed outside to the picnic benches in the hospital’s atrium and made her way towards an empty table. Her fork was midway to her mouth when a tiny blonde popped out of nowhere and seated herself comfortably across from Grace.

  “You handled that douchebag nicely,” she said with a grin, picking a crouton off Grace’s salad and brazenly popping it in her mouth. Her smile didn’t fade as she took in the expression on Grace’s face.

  “Excuse me?”

  The blonde gave a delicate shrug and picked another crouton off the top. “Sorry, bad habit. I seem to have no boundaries. My parents shrug it off to the ‘only child’ syndrome. Anyway, you handled Nolan like a pro. He’s an asshole, and he would have just kept bothering you until you caved. Trust me, I know people who know this from experience.” Shuddering, she pulled a Nalgene bottle from her tote and took a few healthy swigs before frowning at the soda next to Grace’s salad.

  “You shouldn’t drink that stuff, by the way. It will kill you.”

  Grace glared at the woman who’d interrupted her solitary meal and dared put her hands all over her food. “It’s diet.”

  “No matter. That’s even worse, actually,” she nodded knowledgably, bef
ore continuing, “It’s full of fake sugar and all sorts of random shit they either don’t tell you about or never explain. I mean, caramel coloring? What the hell is caramel coloring? What does that even mean? Would the soda be white without it? Why does soda have to be brown?”

  Bemused, Grace stared at her. Why the hell was she arguing about the hazards of diet cola with a perfect stranger? And what the hell did it have to do with Nolan the douchebag?

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have disgusting manners?”

  “All the time,” she agreed, lips curling upward before shrugging slightly and picking up another crouton. “Blame it on my hippie parents. I grew up on a commune about twenty miles south of Austin. Everything was community property … and I have a horrible addiction to any man made carbohydrate except for soda. So, what are you up to?”

  Still confused and more than a little wary, Grace motioned towards her container of salad with the rapidly disappearing croutons. “I was about to eat a peaceful lunch—alone, before I was rudely interrupted by a perfect stranger. Did you even wash your hands before you shoved your fingers in my food?” She wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even introduce myself to you. Told you I had horrible manners, but my hands are always clean. I work up in labor and delivery. Leah Carter, R.N. extraordinaire.” She extended her hand, and frowned when it remained unmet by Grace’s.

  Grace arched a brow. “Why is this important to me?”

  “You are rough. I kinda didn’t believe it, but I had to come see for myself. This—me sitting here, trying to befriend you—is important to you because you need a friend. You’re quickly becoming known as the hospital bitch. Or ice queen. Take your pick.”

  “I need a friend?” she repeated. Was this some sort of joke?

  Leah nodded seriously, plucking another crouton and munching contentedly.

  “Do I look like a lonely chubby girl, too?”

  “Don’t be so sensitive,” Leah admonished lightly. “Of course I don’t think that. Anyway, you’re not fat. I know fat. I grew up in Texas before I left for nursing school, and we are the home of fried anything. You’re more like …” she paused, studying Grace’s form, “Rubenesque! Yes, that’s the perfect word to describe you. Rubenesque! Do you know what I would give for your figure? I keep my hair long so people don’t think I’m a fourteen year old boy. I don’t even have a rack to cuddle the babies.” She sighed dramatically.